


Skifflin is out of the sack

by moonblooch



Series: Hits off the Cosmic Deck [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gen, Misunderstanding, but its all cool, mentions of Fjord's backstory, minor conflict between characters, references to Caleb's backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblooch/pseuds/moonblooch
Summary: Some secrets are shared and the problem with the engine that probably definitely wasn't caused by this weird glowing thing.





	Skifflin is out of the sack

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again folks, second update today because the feedback on The Saga Begins was so amazing. Speaking of, the lovely jmercedesd asked for a bit of a species breakdown for everyone so here we are:
> 
> Caleb & Beau: Still [Human](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Human), but that might have slightly different connotations in Star Wars canon than real life so link to wiki included here.
> 
> Fjord: [Falleen](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Falleen/Legends), although he can just about pass for a few other spiecies with the right sort of disguise.
> 
> Jester: [Twi'lek](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Twi'lek/Legends), because even though there is a species in the Star Wars universe that is basically Tieflings just making her that would feel like a bit of a cheat.
> 
> Molly: [Chiss](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Chiss/Legends). There are actually plot reasons for him being a different species to Jester, but that's spoiler territory.
> 
> Yasha: Probably [Diathim](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Diathim) but I'm still considering that one.
> 
> Nott: [Yoda's Species](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Yoda%27s_species/Legends) because Star Wars handed me a goblin on a platter and I wasn't going to ignore that.
> 
> I'll reveal Caduceus when he shows up, although I do know what he is.
> 
> As ever I do not own any of the characters or concepts contained within this fic.

_“Was zum teufel?!”_

Caleb’s voice echoed down the corridor to Beau’s room, where Fjord was trying to find some robes that she probably wouldn’t mind losing, just in case the person he sent to deliver them (because he’d be doshed if he was leaving his ship alone with a bunch of strangers) decided to take anything for themselves.

“What’s up in there Caleb?” he called back, praying for a good answer as he made his way into the corridor clutching a robe in hand.

The first thing Caleb had done was take a screwdriver to Beau’s goggles, claiming that they were not working properly. When he was satisfied with those, he had lifted Nott onto his shoulders to fix the lights, which required them powering down the entire engine room, which could only be done from the bridge, which now had all of its breadboards on display and several disconnected. Thankfully the lights had seemed to be a loose connection in the wiring as opposed to a fault with the cells and when the lights had flickered back to life, they had unveiled the sheer mess that the engine room was actually in.

Aside from the splatter of tar-fuel (thankfully only from a spare canister, not from the engine itself) which Beau had left close to the entrance, the engine itself was nearly incomprehensible. Fjord was no mechanic by any means, but he had assisted in maintaining the engines of the cargo vessels he had worked on in the past. And yet none of the engine of _The Mistake_ seemed even vaguely recognisable to him. He was certain he would have given it a look over when they bought it (bought being a fairly generous description for the transaction which had brought the ship into their hands), perhaps he had been in too much of a rush.

Either way, Caleb at least seemed to recognise its components, though his comment on the “unconventional layout” was far from encouraging. He had stowed his pack in the little space available in the engineer’s quarters before opening his other bag and affixing a device that seemed to be a small collar light wired to a pair of goggles to Frumpkin and sending him into the depths of the engine room.

He had removed Beau’s goggles, replacing them with a pair of his own which he explained were connected to Frumpkin’s, so that he would be able to see what his cat could. Fjord had left the room, intending on sending Nott to find Beau and Jester with the spare clothes, but Caleb’s latest exclamation led him back into the corridor.

“Why in the name of everything sacred does this thing run on rhydonium?” Caleb yelled back.

“Should it not?” Fjord asked, already knowing the answer as he rounded the corner into the engine room. Caleb’s goggles were glowing blue, presumably an indicator that they were connected to Frumpkins.

“Nein! Nothing this small should.”

“Then, uh, can you make it so that it runs on something else?”

“Not without taking the entire ship to pieces. Every pipe would have to be treated, the cost would be enormous. That and you would attract a lot of attention; these kinds of mods are usually only found on pirate ships.”

Scrutiny was not something Fjord was looking for at that time. The thing in his arm was difficult enough to hide, and travelling with more people was a risk as well. Taking _The Mistake_ to a proper workshop for any extended amount of time could just be the final bolt in the sarcophagus.

“Is there any good news?” he asked.

“Yes, the good news is that I know what your problem is. It is a two person problem to fix, but it mostly requires somebody else to hold things in place while I work. I have made a list of the tools and materials it will need, the ones that I do not already have.” He indicated a clunky looking data-pad which sat on top of his tool bag.

“Right,” Fjord said, looking at the clearly extensive list, “and what is the problem exactly?”

“There are a host of minor issues, but this ship must be at least twenty standard years old by now and I am going to assume it has worked hard in that time so those are to be expected. You will want to get them fixed eventually as they will hamper the functionality if left, but they are not urgent. Your problem is the acceleration compensator.”

“Well dag.”

“I am astounded you even made it to dirt.” Caleb told him, lifting his goggles for a moment to make eye contact. “If you take off in this state you will be flat as a panna cake before you hit the big L.”

“Beau’s not going to like that.” Fjord mused, mostly to himself.

“She is your pilot?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah, a good one at that. She’s done her best with the engine as well, but she’s more of the ‘hit it ‘til it works’ type. Never failed us before, but I guess it had to at some point.”

The look that Caleb gave him before he pulled the goggles back over his eyes could only be described as horrified.

“I will send Frumpkin on a bit more of a look around, if I find anything else important you will hear my yelling. Could you send someone to purchase the items on that list please?”

Fjord picked up the data pad and scanned the list as he walked back to the galley, where he had last seen the others. He could still hear the slightly muffled sound of voices as he approached.

“All I’m saying is that you can’t just go around waving those glowsticks wherever you want to.” Nott was saying. “That sort of thing can get you killed.”

“Well if it’s my life at risk then I’ll wave them wherever I please.” Molly’s voice replied as Fjord came to the door. He had hovered for a moment, debating whether or not to interrupt, when Nott made a guttural growling sound and he decided that it would be best to step in.

“Hey there folks, apologies for interrupting here but I’m afraid I’ve got a couple errands I need taking care of.” He said proffering the robe. “Nott, could you take this to Beau please? I’m guessing she’ll be nearly done.”

Nott shot Molly one foul look before taking the robe and leaving, her feet clicking against metal as she scurried down the steps outside. Fjord turned to Molly and Yasha.

“There going to be any trouble?” he asked “because this is a small ship, I don’t want any scraps breaking out.”

“Not at all.” Molly sighed. “Nott’s just a little agitated about me showing off the lightsabres in public, not that it’s any of her business.”

“Well,” Fjord replied, “I’d take it as a favour if you listened to her in this case. Just to keep the peace a bit. Particularly since anything to do with Jedi only ever leads to trouble in my experience.”

“Whoever said anything about Jedi?” Molly asked with a grin.

“I’m sure you’re just being wise-mouthed, but for the love of the First Light don’t say that sort of thing around Beau. If she thinks you’re Sith she will kill you, and I’ll be in no place to stop her.”

Whilst Molly’s expression didn’t change, something in Yasha’s face twitched. Fjord decided not to comment on this; Yasha looked like she might be able to snap him in half and he was hardly keen to test that theory.

“Look, I’m sorry to come down on y’all like this, I’ll have a word with Nott when I have a chance. Could you maybe have a look around for some of these things?” he held out the data pad. “As many as you can find, maybe some food as well, and I’ll consider the cost your fee for the trip.”

“What if it costs more than a trip to the next planet?” Yasha asked.

“Then we’ll take you further, as long as _The Mistake_ can handle it. That’s what the parts are for.”

“Well, she’s living up to her name if this list is anything to go by.” Yasha said, looking it over. “We will see what we can do.”

Once they had left, Fjord took a moment to breathe. Letting this number of strangers onto his ship all at once was laserbrained, but he had no choice. He had to find out what had happened to Vandren’s starship, and how he had found himself on a beach halfway to the other side of the galaxy after the apparent explosion. In order to keep following the trail of information, he needed a crew. Beau and Jester had been doing a fine job, but a crew of three could only move slowly, and forget about getting any work.

He returned to his quarters, sat on his bunk and at last removed his glove. He had not been missing a hand when he had lost his last crew, but he had woken up on that beach with a hand made of metal, a crystal embedded in the palm. He had examined it many times since, but now he curled the fingers experimentally, trying to parse how the joints moved against each other and the tiny pistons slid into place. Plenty of freighter workers were missing limbs or had enhancements, but Fjord had never seen a hand quite like his before.

He had never seen one that could do what his could either.

Holding his arm a safe distance in front of him, Fjord closed his fist entirely.

A bolt of light shot out from it, quickly solidifying into a shape he had come to both recognise and learn to use as a blade. He turned it this way and that, allowing the blueish glow to chase away the shadows of his perpetually gloomy room. The edges of his vision gradually darkened until it was just him and the light. The sensation of the bunk and the floor beneath his feet faded until he was floating, hypnotized by the crackling bolt in front of him. He must have been breathing, but he could not recall the last time he had actually taken a breath.

**LEARN**

Fjord’s hand sprung open out of instinct, fear clawing at his throat. He looked frantically about his room but no source for the voice made itself evident. Legs shaking he stood.

**LEARN**

There it was again, more insistent. Fjord clenched his hand, allowing the blade to form again as he strode from his room, stumbling through the entrance bay then the galley and into the main corridor, towards the one person he knew to still be on the ship.

“Zurück!” came the cry from the engine room, Caleb swung into view, sending Fjord to a stop immediately. He was clutching a weapon his hands, one that Fjord didn’t quite recognise but which he had seen half a dozen variations of in his brief time as part of a hunting party to the Xorhassian Sector.

“Is that a flame thrower?” he asked, dropping his blade and raising his hands. He could hold his own in a fight, but against a ranged weapon with nowhere to run he barely stood a chance. “Ferglutz Caleb, why do you have a flame thrower?”

“Are you with them? The order?” Caleb asked, voice shaking and all but a yell.

“Who?” Fjord asked

Caleb appeared to physically deflate.

“I am sorry Fjord, I heard the noise of a lightsabre and I panicked.” He holstered the barrel of the flame thrower, which Fjord could now see was attached to the mysterious pack which he had stowed in the engineer’s quarters, and held his hands out.

“You’ve had a bad past with some Jedi then?” Fjord asked. The last thing he needed was someone else that Beau might be inclined to start a fight with.

Caleb’s face grew dark.

“Not with Jedi, but yes. All sabres make a very distinctive sound when they are activated, so when I heard yours my first assumption was that someone had hunted me down. Clearly that was incorrect, and I am very sorry for trying to kill you. Your hand looks very much like something that they would create, which is why I did not drop my weapon when I saw you.”

**LEARN**

The voice came again, and Fjord did his best not to flinch, instead keeping his eyes on Caleb who did not appear to have heard it. The message was clear; Caleb knew someone who could have done this to him. He needed to learn who that was.

“Hey, no hard feelings alright?” he said, taking a tentative step forward. When Caleb did not retreat or grab for the flamethrower again he continued to walk forward until they were almost too close to touch. “I’ve met guys who spent their whole lives at light speed trying to get away from Sith, if you’ve had a bad past with them you being a little jumpy’s understandable.”

He held out his metal hand, open a silent offer for Caleb to take it, and did his best to exude as calming an air as possible. Caleb eyed the hand nervously before reaching out with both hands to examine it.

“Truly, this is a faszinierend piece of hardware you have here.” He remarked, turning the hand gently in the light. “Forgive me for asking, but who gave you this, please?”

“Honestly Caleb, I wish I could tell you. I was in a freighter accident, about a standard year ago I think, and when I woke up I had that thing.” He left out the fact that his hand had not been damaged when his escape pod was deployed, that he could only remember the snippets of darkness and glowing eyes which came to him in his dreams.

Instead he said “I’d appreciate it if we could keep this incident between the two of us Caleb.”

Caleb looked surprised, but nodded in agreement.

“Yes, likewise. Nott will worry if she believes that I have had an, er, an episode I suppose. I take it that you do not want the others to know about your hand?”

“That’d be great. I’ll extend the same courtesy to your flame thrower for now, but it might be better if the others knew about it in case we get into a scuffle.”

“Is that likely?” Caleb asked, releasing Fjord’s hand.

“I’d hope not, but if this is a pirate starship like you suggested then I can’t guarantee we won’t be mistaken for enemies by some shipjackers.”

Caleb nodded slowly.

“I can make some tweaks to the hyperdrive, in something like this we should be able to outrun almost anything that is not an imperial model.”

Fjord desperately hoped that was not a possibility.

The awkward ticks slid past one by one until Fjord finally spoke up again.

“So, did you find any other problems? With the engine I mean.”

“Hm, oh, yes, ah, I – there was nothing major,” Caleb seemed to be grateful for a topic he could speak about comfortably, “all mostly standard for a rhydonium engine, which you should not have. Most of the strangeness that I encountered can be put down to the down-sizing; this appears to be based off the old Venator class and I am certain that you do not need me to tell you how insane that is.”

He shook his head, a strange smile creeping onto his face.

“Apart from that, the only unusual item which I found, well, Frumpkin found, was this glowing – I think that it was a crystal of some sort, but no kind that I recognise. About this big.” He indicated with his hands. “I put it in the engineer’s quarters, hold on.”

He opened the door to the small side room, an action shortly followed by a long, low meow.

“I know, I know.” Fjord heard Caleb mutter. “It was just to keep you safe, yes?”

He emerged barely a tick later, holding something glowing in his gloved hands. As it got closer, Fjord had to admit that crystal was probably the best word for the dodecahedron-shaped object, even if his vision swam every time he tried to look directly at it. It was the colour of a blue sky in a partial eclipse, a strange, swirling, not-quite-silver that could have been a different colour entirely from another angle.

“I am aware that some ships use crystals, but I have never seen any like this. Do not worry,” Caleb said, immediately causing worry to curl in Fjord’s gut, “it was not attached to anything, and it did not appear to have been at any point. It was tucked away in a corner.”

“Huh.” Was all that Fjord could offer in response.

“I am happy to take a closer look at it when I have fixed the acceleration compensator, but it does not seem to do anything apart from make your eyes water.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that. It’d be a nice thing to keep, but it might be worth a fair number of credits to the right buyer, maybe one of those collector types?”

“I doubt that I could guess the value my friend, but I can certainly study it when we are moving.” Caleb returned the object to his room.

“I would advise that you move quickly if you do not want the others to know about your hand, Nott has just informed me that they are on their way back.” He said as he was walking back over to Fjord, briefly lifting his hair to display a small contraption made of copper wire which hooked over the top of his ear.

“Right, thanks for the heads up.” Fjord answered. “If you want any help clearing that room of yours out just shout for me or the others, right? I’m sure Beau and Jester would be happy to help.”

“Of course, thank you.” Caleb called after him as he retreated once again to his room. He had barely got his glove back on when he heard the thunder of footsteps in the entrance bay.

“We’re back!” cried Jester’s voice. “Fjord, where are you? We found this really cute shop on the way back and I got you something.”

“I’m just in my room.” He called back, bracing himself as his door slammed open.

“So check this out, okay, we were walking back from the cantina and we took a slightly different route back because Nott saw something shiny and cool looking, and Nott’s really, really cool by the way I think we might be like best friends now. Not better friends than you and me and Beau, but still, like, really, really good friends. Oh, and maybe not as good friends as with the Traveller, but like, you get the idea.”

Fjord couldn’t quite stop himself from smiling.

“So anyway, we went down this little alleyway and there was this little trinket shop and we bought this.” She held up a small, glittering device on a short chain. “And look, it does this if you spin it.” She flicked it with one finger and it spun, undulating into a number of different shapes and colours. “And I thought it would be good for your room, because it’s really boring in here right now. I mean that’s cool if you like that, but it’s not very fun for anyone visiting you, you know?”

“Thank you Jester, I really like it.” Fjord replied, taking the device from her and holding it up to the little light which his room had. “I’ll find somewhere real nice to hang it, I promise.”

“You had better.” She said, crossing her lekku twice behind her back. “So what’s up with the ship, did you ask Caleb to take a look at the engine yet? How soon can we go?”

“We ain’t going anywhere in this state Jester.” Fjord sighed before continuing, “Caleb says the acceleration compensator’s out of commission. He says he can fix it, but it sounds like it’ll take a while.”

“Aw frang!” Jester exclaimed. “Did he say how long exactly?”

“I didn’t ask.” Fjord paused for a beat before blurting out “Jester, he knows about my hand.”

“Oh.”

“He found out by accident but it sounded like he might know who did it.”

“That’s really good Fjord!” Jester beamed at him. “You can finally find out what happened to Vandren, I’m really happy for you. With me and Beau’s help of course.”

“I certainly hope so Jess.”

They were interrupted by a klang from the general direction of the entrance bay.

“Can someone get out here?” Molly’s voice sounded strained through the wall between them. “We’re about to drop this thing.”

Yasha murmured something indiscernible from due to the distance between them.

“Alright, _I’m_ about to drop this thing. A little help here please?”

**Author's Note:**

> I've written about 4000 words in less than 24 hours whoo! I'd love to say that the writer's block has been defeated, but I think my 20 unsaved drafts would protest that. The process is probably not helped by the numerous wookiepedia deep dives and my continuous marvelling at how dumb some of the slang in Star Wars is.
> 
> Thank you all so, so, so much for all of your positive feedback, I honestly had no idea that this many of you would like this AU and I'm thrilled you're having as much fun as I am :]


End file.
